Rock Bottom
by StarWarrior72
Summary: Alternately, "It's Darkest Just Before The Dawn", but I have a weird goal of getting a story title beginning with every letter of the alphabet. Uh, I really need a multichapter story idea that won't make people hate and kill me. Any ideas, guys?


Luke tightened his grip on his lightsaber. Face Vader again? He could do that. Of course, this wasn't what Yoda had meant, but Luke thought it would work nicely. Yoda's suggestion had spoken of violence. That wasn't the Jedi way. Surely meeting Vader non-aggressively would be more likely to turn out good results. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

He couldn't quite bring himself to believe it, though, as he stood on the sidewalk outside his father's castle.

Few people lingered in the darkness around the foot of the foreboding building, and most who passed casually crossed the road to walk on the other side and quickened their paces. Luke tried not to notice.

He took one more look down the street and decided that it was too busy. Odds were, his father would be annoyed if anyone saw him entering his palace.

_Well, he's not expecting me anyway. What are the odds he even answers his door?_ Luke thought, walking around behind the building, looking for a back entrance. None presented themselves. _That's odd. Living in a huge place like this, he must have staff. He wouldn't let them enter the front door, would he? Maybe he uses slaves._ Luke found a panel in the wall, which led him to a heating vent. He crawled into it and started to crawl down it's length.

After a few feet, he was fairly certain that he had gotten through the wall. Sure enough, when he shifted aside a panel, he was able to drop down into a hallway.

He looked around quickly before starting to move down the hall, towards his father's presence. As he neared it, he slowed, wanting to seem more dignified as he met the other man. He calmed himself as much as possible, and finally summoned the courage to open the door to the room he was sure his father was in.

"Father?"

Much to his horror, his father knelt on the floor before a small trembling child. Luke stepped further into the room, hoping the boy was his imagination, or some kind of mirage. The child didn't disappear, though, and Luke found his gaze torn to Vader instead.

"Father?"

Vader looked up at him. "Yes?"

Luke was staring at the child again. His father had betrayed him. After all the hurt Vader had caused him, he hadn't thought the man could make it any clearer that he didn't want a son. He had been wrong.

"I-I-I wanted to see you again. After everything, you're still my father. And you're the only one I'm ever going to get and I knew that, but-" his voice caught in his throat, "But I guess I just forgot that children are so infinitely easier to replace!"

He spun, running. He raced to the front door, shoving it open and practically toppling down the many steps. He steadied himself and continued running, seeking out somewhere safe. Somewhere he could collapse. He needed to. He had been right; facing Vader had been a test. A cold, cruel test, he had accidently modified it to be.

He threw himself down in an alleyway, tears streaming down his cheeks. After everything Vader had done to him, he had gone back to ask Vader's permission to stay by the other man's side as a Jedi, and a son, instead of a Sith, and an apprentice. But Vader hadn't waited for his own son to return. Somewhere, he'd gone and found himself another.

Luke closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall behind him, crying harder than ever. Vader could at least have saved a place in his heart for Luke! But he hadn't even given chase. Hadn't it been obvious enough that Luke was hurting? And then, back on Cloud City, Vader hadn't tried to catch him.

Maybe Vader wanted Luke dead. After all, Vader had once been Anakin, and Obi-Wan had made it sound as if Luke had been born to Anakin, and not Vader. Maybe the Sith was simply wiping away the last traces of his old life. An old teacher? Dead. A wife? Dead. An entire order? Dead. A son? Why would the son be any different?

But Luke had so hoped that he _would_ be different. That he could run to Vader, and Vader could make it all okay for him again, and, in the process, he could make everything good for the galaxy once more.

He couldn't believe he'd been so foolish. Running to a Sith couldn't possibly be the best way to go! There had to be better ways to try to mend the galaxy. Perhaps Yoda had been right. Perhaps a straightforward attack would have been the best way to cope with his father.

But all Luke could think of was the idea of Anakin. Maybe Anakin was just that, an idea, but he had once been a person, hadn't he? And that person had wanted to be a father? And because of that man, Luke was alone in the galaxy. Because of that man, Luke was Force-sensitive. Because of him, Luke couldn't even remain an orphan, safe and uncared for by the Empire. Because of Anakin, Luke was a wanted man. Because of Anakin, Luke would never live peacefully until the impossible had been achieved and the Empire had fallen. Because of Anakin, there was Vader.

But, surely it could all be reversed. If things could plummet so quickly, they had to land somewhere. It _must _bottom out somewhere. And once you'd hit rock bottom, you had nowhere to go but up. Luke only hoped the impact didn't kill him.

What was he going to do now? Go back to Dagobah and tell his teachers about his failure? Return to the Alliance, broken, lost, and nothing but a burden? Try again to return to his father, and hope that everything had been a mistake?

None of the options looked like a good choice. All Luke could bring himself to want to do was to lie against the wall in the darkness of the shadows cast by the tall buildings on either side of the lane.

He put his head in his hands and decided to give himself some more time to cry before he attempted logical thought again.

Suddenly there was pressure on his shoulder. He shrugged it away, assuming that it was something that had fallen from a window. It returned to his shoulder.

He looked up, and was surprised to find Darth Vader meeting his gaze.

"What's wrong, Child?"

"Y-you abandoned me. And then…then- you had that other boy. I thought you would want me. I risked everything to come and meet you again."

"What?"

"The boy I saw you holding. Don't lie to me, please. Everyone else already does."

"Oh, Luke." Luke sensed, with indignation, amusement in his father's deep voice. "He was lost. He managed to find his way into my castle. I was going to kill him, but I thought that it would have upset you. I was just trying to convince him to tell me where he lived so I could take him home."

Luke felt the familiar bird of hope spread it's wings, flapping gently at his insides, trying to lift off. He held it down, frantically, not wanting his hopes to soar again, only to be shot down.

"You're lying to me."

"I'm not lying, Luke. I refuse to lie to you."

Again, the bird flapped, making Luke feel slightly nauseated.

"I don't understand."

"There is nothing to understand, son. Come along, I don't wish to be discovered here."

Still not at all sure of what was happening, Luke stood, following his father out. Vader led him back into the castle. He gently guided Luke back to the room Luke had first found him in. There sat the young boy, tear streaks dried on his face.

"You gonna be okay now?" He asked Luke, standing up and toddling over to wrap himself around Luke.

Finding himself unable to answer, Luke just looked to his father for help. The boy took the hint and also looked up at the Dark Lord.

"He gonna be good now?"

"Yes," Vader assured the two of them. "Everything will be all right now."

The child nodded, "Go home now?"

Vader turned to look at Luke. "Will you be all right for long enough for me to get this child home?"

"Yeah, I think I can manage," Luke said, managing a smile as he pried the little boy off his leg and handed him back to Vader.

"You'll find your room up the first set of stairs to your right. Make yourself at home, I'll be with you as soon as possible," Vader promised.

Luke started down the hall his father had indicated and mounted the stairs two at a time. His father had a room prepared for him! He had been waiting after all! Luke entered the room, and without a single thought, threw himself down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling through his tears.

Finally, when the tears were drying, he sat up, looking around his room. _His_ room. His father had prepared it for _him_. It wasn't a matter of him deciding to turn to the Dark Side and his father hastily converting a guest room into a space for his son. Vader had actually put thought into the room.

And Vader had thought about it for Luke _specifically_. Not just an apprentice. Not even just as his son, but as _Luke_. Luke wasn't a materialistic person by any means, but the fact his father had somehow managed to get his hands on models and working schematics of so many ships Luke liked was incredible. The room was cavernous. If Vader had been to put up walls, he could have divided it into almost an entire house, minus kitchen and bathroom. And the bathroom was probably right through the only door.

Luke wrapped his arms around himself and started to lean back into the pillows. That was when he noticed what already lay there. _My old bear! How did Father find this?_ He thought, pulling the bear out from between the pillows. It was clearly a little worse for wear, scorched in places, but it was definitely the same bear.

He smiled and wrapped his arms around the bear and lay back. Even the ceiling had been painted to his interests. An entire galaxy of tiny, painted stars covered the only empty space the room had.

"Wow."

"I'm glad you approve."

Luke sat bolt upright, still holding his bear. He hadn't heard his father enter. He sensed Vader smile and relaxed his grip on the bear.

Vader came to his side and sat down. He didn't speak, so Luke felt obliged to fill the silence. "It's perfect, Father. Thank you."

He was immensely glad when his father's answer didn't come with a demand that Luke decide his entire future that moment.

"I'm very glad."

They sat in silence for a while until Luke felt it begin to weigh again.

"Father, are those schematics all real?"

"Yes, even the ones painted on the walls."

Luke hadn't noticed that the pattern on the walls were schematics. "Wow. And, uh, would there be pieces to start to build something in the workbench over there?"

"Yes."

"Uh, Father, would you be willing to help me?"

Luke could have sworn he saw his father's melted shields pouring over the floor. "Luke, I would be honoured."

Luke grinned widely, nestling his bear between the pillows again before standing up, followed by his father.


End file.
